The Forgotten Months
by DarklingRaven
Summary: The Tactician Mark wanders the land after the events of Lyn's tale, struggling with himself, bandits, and the darkness that is slowly consuming the land...
1. Prologue 1 - 2

"Forgotten Months: Prologue Part One"

"Mark, wake up! It's bandits again, they're come down from the mountains, its horrible! The mayor has ordered that every able bodied man hurry and come and help! Get up, they need you out there!" Mark jumped to his feet, quickly grabbing his cloak. Walking to the door, he was stopped by the maid who had awoken him. Stomping in the hallway told him that the other men were already on their way.

"Mark, aren't you going to grab anything else?" The man turned to her with a somewhat worried look on his face.

"I don't have any weapon whatsoever. In fact, people here say that I am unable to fight at all", he said while walking into the hallway. Hurriedly, the maid rushed in front of him and pushed a small kitchen knife into his hands. Mark paused, a slight smile flickered on his face and then vanished.

What is your name miss? I know you told me it, but I'm terrible with names." The maid paused, apparently surprised. Quickly, she recovered.

"It's Kierra sir." Kierra nervously tousled her black hair, looking at him with sapphire eyes. Mark smiled and handed her the knife back. She took it reluctantly, a questioning look in her eyes. He spoke reassuringly to her.

"I'll be fine, it's not blades or spells that I use, you know that." Kierra smiled slightly, then went back to the worried frown.

"I... If you don't stay safe, I don't know what..." She paused, thinking, then continued, "what we'll do about your rent. It's been a whole month you haven't paid Mark. Also, I... I'd miss you, even though it's been about a month. Your stories, they keep us entertained on those slow days here! Please don't get yourself killed." Mark was surprised at this sudden outpour of emotion by the girl. He smiled softly again, wondering why he hadn't seen it before. Of course, she was the one who listened the most intently to his stories. Still, he could not bring himself to think of any woman in the way he thought of Lyndis, but still...

"Alright Kierra, I'll make it back in one piece. You and the rest of the people here stay hidden in this Inn, I'll go out there and do what I can. Stay safe." With that, he hurried off, but not before he made sure Kierra had hidden.

Mark reached the small barrier around the village and headed towards the flickering firelight nearby. A guard leaned towards him as he passed, whispering to him.

"Well, seems like we'll be putting your legendary skills to the test, eh boy?" The guard, an elderly man with a dark scar running down his arm cackled, brushing past Mark to join the rest in the center. It was the general consensus of the men in the town that Mark was the best liar in existence, believed to be supported by the fact that he had no money.

Most the elders always shook their heads with disapproval whenever Mark walked by, saying things like "Oh, that young rascal, only staying for the food, hasn't worked a day since he got here" and "If he's done everything he says he's done, where is the money? You can't save a kingdom without a little money involved" and so on and so forth. Mark just walked on by, pretending he hadn't heard. No one in this town took him seriously, with the obvious exception of a certain maid and perhaps the mayor, wise old man that he was.

"Well, hopefully tonight's a chance to prove myself to them", Mark thought as he joined the circle around the blazing flames. When the mayor saw him, he began to plan out their defense. In fact, Mark's advice was accepted by the elder, whose name was Enthias and the rest. He was proving himself to them finally, though it was to be seen whether his advice would hold up in battle...

So, thoughts on this new story? I feel like I should release one a week, (hopefully), but that all depends on your feedback. Any issues you see so far? Any requests? Anything good you'd like to see more of? Anything you really hate? And please, don't say something generic or personal, say something that I can use to edit my story well.


	2. Prologue Part 2 - 2

"Forgotten Months: Prologue Part Two"

Mark's plan was a simple one: a smaller group of men would lure the bandits into a narrow, one way street where they would then be joined by the rest of the warriors. These men would, in theory, be able to be destroyed without much trouble, assuming everyone got into position at the proper time. After seeing the layout of the town, Mark realized that the best spot for this ambush would be on the south wall, which would be problematic since the bandits would be coming from the northern side of the town. In a risky move, he sent three of the fastest men in the village to lure the bandits over towards the rest of the force. As they left towards the northern wall, Enthias came up to Mark.

"So, it seems that your words are being taken seriously now, eh boy?" The older man had his usual twinkle in his eye, even in the face of an attack. His graying hair had not yet left his head, and his beard was one any younger man would be proud to have. Mark had considered Enthias to be one of the wisest people he had ever met, surpassing even himself, (though Mark never thought of himself in that manner). Enthias had seen the truth in Mark's words even when no one else did. Mark laughed a little, then spoke.

"Yes, I believe I have been recognized, as it were. It remains to be seem whether this plan of my works the way I intended, but I do believe it shall, unless the enemy has some strange magic unknown to me. If they are the usual variety, I believe they should not be an issue." Suddenly, their talk was deafened. The air suddenly became dry, and a dull heat started to rise from the ground. Realizing what was happening, Mark dove at Enthias and knocked him down. Everyone looked at Mark in shock for a moment, then realized what was happening when the waves of inky blackness poured out of the ground around him. As fast as he could, Mark shouted out one more command:

"Retreat, you cannot fight against this! Fall back, these aren't mere bandits! Urgh, gah!" The shadows had almost completely enveloped Mark, leaving only his face open. They were slowly tightening, squeezing around Mark as if it were a snake, crushing him. Now horrified, everyone ran to Mark in an attempt to save him, but it was in vain. They were already too late. Mark toppled over, the shadows still enveloping him. The village started igniting with explosions of lighting, and as mark slowly blacked out, all he could hear were the sounds of pain and death. With blurry eyes, the last thing Mark saw was a black robed figure, slowly gliding towards him... It's glowing gold eyes twinkled as a contorted and broken laugh came from it's lips. It had gotten what it came for: The tactician who would win the war for it's master...

So, sorry for the shortness of this chapter, I just wanted to get us launched straight into the actual story. Who is this robed figure? Why are it's eyes gold, (hint hint hint)? What is this fell power that the robed figure wielded against Mark, and why does it want Mark at all? All these questions and more will be answer in "Fire Emblem, The Forgotten Months"! I hope you have enjoyed it so far, and I would love to hear your reviews on it!


	3. Chapter One: Darkness

"Forgotten Months: Prologue Part Three"

"He is awake. Let the process begin." Searing pain coursed through Mark's body, contorting him as he strained against the chains he found wrapped around him. He couldn't see anything at all. Mark could only feel the pain and hear the emotionless voice drone on.

"Do not worry. The pain will end soon enough." Mark's lips moved, but he could barely speak at all. The same dark feeling he had gotten when the darkness engulfed him up was oozing up through his veins.

"W... Why?" Mark gasped out. The pain was getting worse and worse with every is minute! It was moving towards his head.

"You shall see why soon enough." The man gave what almost sounded like laughter.

It had reached Mark's skull. The torment filled him completely, wracking his body with wave after wave of heat. Suddenly, it stopped. Mark gasped. Blood trickled down from his forehead. Blinking slowly, his vision returned. He laid still, stunned at what he saw. The man above him... was him! With the exception of his brightly glowing golden eyes and raven black hair, the creature was Mark, there was no doubt about that. It looked down on him, face blank, absolutely empty of emotion. Suddenly, it toppled over, and from it's hand a blood-red crystal fell to the ground. The gem rose up into the air, flying at the thing laying on the ground. Reaching his arm, the orb shattered, embedding itself into the flesh of the creature. Blood oozed out from the wounds, and the gems seemed to lap it up eagerly. Stirring, it rose, trembling as it pushed itself up from the ground. It looked at Mark, laughing bitterly. It stood up and frenetically paced around the room.

"So this is what it means to feel emotion! This is pain! Nergal was right!" It stopped, directing it's gaze at Mark. Mark noticed it's pupils were now a crystalline red, flecked with gold.

"We are brothers now. Your blood courses through me, your memories run through my mind. I think like you now!" Mark had now regained his ability to speak, and he did.

"What happened to the village?" The creature stared at him, it's face contorting into a vile sneer.

"What do you think happened to it, brother? No one escapes the Black Fang." It started walking away, then laughed. The creature turned and walked towards Mark, cackling. A feeling of dread filled Mark. He knew what the next words would be, but he didn't want them to be true. It touched Mark's face, running it's pale finger along his face.

"You want to know what really happened to that village, do you? Well, allow me a demonstration!" Whirling, it pointed it's hand towards the slab of stone Mark was chained to. Straining, Mark tried to get up, but the thing pushed him down as the flux rose up slowly from the earth. Once more, Mark was being swallowed up by the darkness. It leaned into Mark's face, whispering to him as the shadows stretched over his body.

"They all were killed. Every. Last. One of them. No one now stands there still breathing. Oh, they tried to escape, running into the in, but in the end they were all caught and killed, one by one." Mark's anger was at the highest it could ever be. Energy surged through his arms, and he pushed through the darkness surrounding him. It jumped back, aghast.

"Impossible!" Mark broke through the flux and the chains, rolling to the ground. Struggling, he got up, grasping a pillar for support. Mark began to lurch towards the creature. All of the sudden, a wave of emitted from the walls of the chamber. Shadows reached out from the eyes and mouth of the creature. It all grasped for Mark, clawing it's way along the walls and floor like a demon. Trembling, Mark fell to the ground, pulled down by the power of this monster. Then, as if afraid, the shadows fell back, receding into the creature. It spoke, though not to Mark.

"B- but master, I can kill him right now! I can destroy h-" It fell back as if thrown. Kneeling, the thing spoke again.

"Master, I apologize. I let my emotions control me. I shall do as you command." As it stood up, flux oozed out from it's skin. In the blink of an eye, it vanished, leaving Mark struggling to move on the ground. Sitting up, he leaned against the pillar, he began to think to himself.

"Wh- what is happening?! Mark, get control of yourself! Nothing is making sense right now, of course it won't! What difference does it make now? Find answers, but first find out where you are." The image of the scene that had just unfolded continued to fill Mark's mind as he limped down the passageway where the creature had been standing. Why were the Black Fang, the same people who had captured and taken Ninian, interested in him now? Why did the creature call him "brother", and more importantly, what had they done to Mark himself? A breeze wafted from a side passage to his left, and he turned towards it. He stopped as he realized where he was, then collapsed.

A burnt and broken bed lay in front of him. It was his bed that he had been sleeping on for a month! Mark yelled, tears streaking down his face. He pounded the ground with his fists, cursing the Black Fang and everything they had done. He moved towards the window, looking out. Everything lay in ashes. Nothing moved, no sound could be heard. Everything inside the village walls was destroyed. He had hoped the creature had simply been lying in an attempt to anger him, but... A horrible realization came to Mark. This was...

"...All because of me..." He slumped down, his mind fading away as he fell into a troubled and listless sleep. The last thing he thought before he did was this:

"Everyone... I- I'm so sorry. I caused this... I will avenge you, even if I have to tear apart every last member of the Fang myself!"

So, what do you think Mark is going to do? And alright, I'll admit, this is somewhat inspired by a lot of the anime I have been watching recently. That isn't a bad thing, is it? Please, as always, tell me what you think. Noticed any grammatical or punctuation errors? Tell me about those as well. Thanks for reading, and I hope this has entertained you at least a little.


	4. Chapter Two: When Two Roads Meet

"Forgotten Months Chapter Two: When Two Roads Meet Again"

For the next several nights during a storm that had suddenly come upon the town, Mark buried the dead whose bodies had survived the flames. He could find no traces of anyone anywhere. He had hoped somewhere inside him that at least some of the townspeople had survived, but there was nothing his eyes could see. While performing the burials, Mark had come to terms with what had happened. He had decided that continuing to mourn everyone would not help anyone. Besides that, the thought of his doppelganger running around pretending to be him was constantly on his mind. On the night he had finished the burials, the sound of a horse and rider echoed down the valley. Mark's eyes flashed in the direction of these sounds, and he quickly hid behind the charred remains of the blackened house. He had no idea what to expect, however. Of course, he assumed that it was another member of the Black Fang, sent to check if anyone had survived, but there was no way for him to be sure. The pounding of the hooves came closer and closer, and Mark looked around for a weapon to defend with. His eyes fell on the knife Kierra had given him the night this all had started. It had apparently fallen to the ground, and it lay in the ashes in the middle of the street. The rider was extremely close now; judging by the sound, Mark had only seconds to lunge for the blade, which he didn't really know how to use. Deciding against it, Mark crouched lower and looked towards the sound. It was coming down the path. From the noise, it seemed the rider had dismounted. The tension mounted as the person walked down the path, heading towards Mark's hiding spot. Mark quickly ducked, making sure he was out of view. The man stopped, stooping to pick up the knife. He turned it over in his hands, staring at it. Suddenly, he turned his head and spoke quietly.

"Tactician?" Mark recognized the voice. A wave of relief washed over him as he stood up. The man before him was dressed in Sacaen tribal clothing, standing slightly taller then Mark.

"Rath, what are you doing this far into Pharae? I assumed you had returned to your homeland when you had left!" The Rath's face remained emotionless as he spoke.

"I joined up with a mercenary corps not long after I had left. Our retaking of Caelin in has afforded us all notoriety. I was sent to uncover whether the reports of foul play from the Black Fang were true." Mark nodded. He began to pace back and forth, thinking. After several minutes, Mark spoke.

"Indeed, the Black Fang were here. It seems as though they were after me, ME of all people! IF what you say of our notoriety is true, then I begin to understand our situation more clearly. Rath, somehow they made a copy of me. I'm lucky to be alive right now, and yet at the same time, if I wasn't alive, then none of this would have happened. From what I remember, you are a tracker, correct?" Rath nodded and Mark shook his head.

Were that you were here three days ago when the tracks were fresh. Now that this storm has run it's course, I doubt that any trace of the Black Fang that decimated this poor town have survived. I couldn't find anything at all." Rath said nothing, and instead crouched to the ground, using the knife to carefully lift up leaves and twigs that had covered it. He began to walk forward, pausing now and then to observe this or that. Mark followed, attempting to not get in Rath's way as they weaved through the streets. Soon, they had left the village. Mark, both crouching and confused, spoke.

"Have you found them? Where are they going?" Rath stood up, turning to face Mark. Mark paused, wondering if he had said the wrong thing.

"Tactician, they headed towards the forest. It is quite possible they are heading to Sacae. I believe they are heading to Caelin." The Tactician stood for a moment, somewhat startled.

"Lyndis?" Rath nodded. Mark stood up, striding with purposefully forward.

"Rath, what do you intend to do now?" The followed, whistling to his horse to follow. He silently considered his options, then decided.

"Tactician, I must return to my captain and report what I have found. The bounties placed upon the Fang's heads is now tripled. As soon as I can I will rejoin you. Head towards Caelin and expect me five days hence. If I cannot come, I will send someone to replace me."

"Agreed Rath. Thank you for your assistance. I trust your word. We both have loyalties to Caelin, whether by blood or our own honor. If we cannot stop my imposter and his men now, there is no telling what atrocities he could commit. Farewell Rath, may the gods bless your journey." Rath nodded, mounted his horse, and rode off. Mark gathered his things and began walking. Caelin was in danger, Lyn was in danger, and nobody knew it but himself and Rath. One thought came to his mind after he had contemplated all of this.

"What will I do when I meet her again?"

So, how do you like the direction this story has taken? Honestly, when I began this chapter, I didn't know Rath was going to come into the scene at all. However, when he suddenly rode in and I understood how perfectly his character would fit into this scene, I went with it. As always, review and proofread if you want; I enjoy pretty much any feedback. Speaking of feedback, how am I doing when it comes to sticking to the canon for this game? I honestly am writing this as I go, so if something is off message me or write a review and tell me. I hope you have enjoyed, and thank you for reading. Even if it were one person reading my story I would be thrilled, but no, it's almost 250 people. And that's awesome.


	5. Chapter Three: Weeping in the Forest

"Forgotten Months Chapter Three: Weeping in the Forest"

The forest had engulfed Mark. The dark, heavy air stifled him. Though he had traveled these woods before, something had changed. A feeling of fear and hatred hung over the air; the trees seemed to be watching him. At the start of his trek through the forest, Mark had, as he always did, talked to himself. The further he got into the forest, however, the quieter he became. It was now twilight of his first day in, and he had stopped talking completely. Fumbling through the forest's roots and knotted branches, the tactician continued to head North. The sun barely shone through the trees above, twinkling in and out of existence. Once the sun had fully set, an eerie silence took hold. Before, there had been a few birds, (while not pleasant sounding at all, they were still something alive), and the faint rustling of smaller animals on the forest floor. Now? Now there was nothing, nothing but Mark's slow breathing. Mark stopped and leaned against and log, muttering to himself. He reached into his pack and grabbed some rather stale bread, biting off a hunk of it. He sat down amongst the leaves, clearing away a spot before laying down.

"No fire tonight, not when the whole forest has turned against me."

It was late that night when he first heard it. A quiet weeping woke him from his sleep. He sat up groggily, confused. It wasn't the weeping that startled Mark, no. It was the place. He was alone in the forest, or so he thought; it was also completely dark, nothing could be seen. No other sound could be heard but the quiet weeping. When he realized what the sound was, he quickly ducked down. The sound slowly drew nearer, seemingly heading towards Mark. He sat back up, realizing what this meant. He frantically whispered to himself, discussing it with his own mind.

"What in Elibe was that? Wait, better question, why was there no other noise? No footsteps, no branches breaking, only weeping." He grabbed his bag, which lay beside him, and stood up.

"No point in me staying here, I can't sleep anymore, not with that weeping coming nearer and nearer. It's still a fair distance away, so if I run now, I think I could make it." Mark dashed away from the sound. Suddenly, it stopped. A voice called out, floating listlessly over the forest air. It was young and feminine, causing Mark to stop confused once again.

"Help me... I'm lost... Help me... I'm lost..." The voice repeated itself over and over again. Mark drew his knife and slowly edged his way towards the sounds. Whoever that voice belonged to, it unnerved Mark all the same. It drew steadily nearer and nearer. Mark stopped. It was behind a small hill that rose in front of him. He edged his way forward. Suddenly, the voice's owner reached the top of the hill and screamed. Mark fumbled with his knife, dropping it into the soft soil at the bottom of the hill. He looked up. It was a girl somewhat younger then Mark himself, probably in her sixteenth year. She looked at him, tears still pouring down her face and recoiled, falling to the ground.

"She couldn't possibly be a monster", the tactician thought to himself. He stood up and walked towards her, extending his hand. She cautiously reached out her hand, grasping his as terror filled her eyes. He awkwardly picked her up, forgetting the knife.

"What happened girl", Mark asked softly. The girl wiped her eyes, sniffling.

"Help me... I'm lost... Help me... I'm lost..." Mark recoiled slightly, then realized she must be traumatized. He carried her back to the log he had rested by and set her down.

"Mark, you'll just have to risk a fire. She needs light, something to calm her down. Alright then, go on, start a fire then." The girl looked at him quizzically through her tears. He realized he'd said it out loud. He stooped down and began to start a fire, deciding to be cheery and happy so the girl wouldn't be scared.

"Sorry about that, I just do things like that, talk to myself I mean. It helps me decide things. Speaking of deciding things, what do you want to eat? I have some bread, some cheese, and some more bread if you'd like some."

"I... Can I have some cheese?" Mark nodded, reaching into his bag and grabbing a chunk of it for her. He'd ask why she was weeping and how she had gotten lost later. Right now, they both needed to calm down. By the time he had started the fire, she had calmed down. She looked at him, obviously confused. He sat down, leaning against the log.

"Why did you kill them?" Mark, startled, choked on the food he had been eating. He looked up at her confused.

"What", he asked. The girl, apparently enraged, stood up.

"You killed mother and dad and you don't remember?" She was shrieking now, whether from just anger or fear. It dawned on Mark what had happened. He quietly stood up as the girl sat down, sobbing again. Mark spoke quietly, trying to not startle her.

"Are you sure it was me? Did you see my eyes or my hair?" The girl slowly shook her head. Mark attempted to sound soothing as he spoke, though he knew she wouldn't believe him.

"It wasn't me, I swear it, it was my-" The girl glowered at him, then stood back up again. She leaned over him, her red hair showering over him.

"Your what, your doppelganger? It was the same voice! You look the same as you did one night ago when you strangled them in the dark!" Mark stood up as well, standing a good head taller then her. Still speaking softly, his tone was firm.

"It was not me. I do, in fact, have a "doppelganger" running around disguised as me. I know very little about him, except for the fact that he has my memories, my mind. He's... some sort of magical being. Have you heard of the Black Fang?" She nodded, composing herself. She still didn't trust him though, that much was clear.

"They made him, at least I think they did. He said something about Lord Nergal, and I can only assume that he's their maker. What did you see about him? Was his hair black or his eyes red?" She thought for a minute.

"I don't remember what you looked like!" Mark was steadily losing his patience.

"Girl, think harder! Didn't you see anything at all?"

"Well... I don't know", she said confused. Suddenly her eyes flashed with realization.

"I... I remember now... I saw a flash of red from his eyes... It wasn't you. But then, who are you?" Mark slumped down again.

"I am a tactician... Other then that, I am just as confused about who I am as you are, at least lately. When I retook Caelin, I-"

"You retook Caelin? That was you who led Lady Lyndis and the rest to victory?" Mark nodded, realizing what Rath had meant when he said "our retaking of Caelin in has afforded us all notoriety." The girl stepped back a little.

"I thank you and the rest of Lyndis' Legion for that. Lundgren was a tyrant."

"Tell me what happened to your family."

"Yesterday, he showed up at our camp during the night. We offered him food and we also offered him a spot at our campsite since he was heading to Caelin as well. He accepted. I knew something was off, and I suspect mother knew as well, but father let him join us anyways. We'd put out the fire by the time he had arrived, so we never got a chance to see him clearly, but he talked a lot. He seemed to be thinking aloud most of the time. By the time I realized how insane he really was, it was far too late. He started talking to himself. Mother and father were talking to each other on their end of the tent, and he was sleeping near me. I heard him whispering to himself. I can remember everything as clearly as I did then. This is what happened..."

Another week, another chapter. Sorry to leave you with a cliffhanger like that, but I felt that the chapter had been rattling on for a long time. You'll just have to wait until next time to see what happened, won't you? *wink wink* I feel as though I've made this story my own, which is hard for a fan fiction to do. So, as always, give me reviews on something good, something bad, ect. I love feedback, as long as it's helpful feedback. I hope you have enjoyed this work of mine.


	6. Chapter Four: Broken Minds

"Forgotten Months Chapter Four: Broken Minds, Shattered Hearts"

"What am I? Simply clay and magic? Am I an empty shell, worth nothing? Am I a tool only to be used? Nothing makes sense to me anymore... I feel it in my bones; my mind is rotting. After I absorbed part of my brother, I was more human then ever before. I don't know what it is to be human actually. What am I? Dust to be blown away? Ash to be brushed off of the dead who have burned?" The copy paused, sitting up and leaning it's hands on his head as he rocked back and forth. He noticed the girl looking at him and he smiled wickedly. He stood up and went to her, grabbing her face in his pale hands, forcing her to face him.

The girl, now horrified, stared silently at him in the darkness, mouthing words while she tried to see his face in the pitch black.

"What... are you?" He leaned into her face, eyes that glinted slightly the only things to be seen in the darkness that engulfed them both.

"No! I am not dust, not a simple tool or magic infested husk! I am me, both more and less then he expects of me! I am not a tool, I am a human, I do what I want, you hear me, what I want!" Mark's clone grimaced, pain coursing through him. He withdrew from her and started to curl up on the ground while the girl stood up and shouted for her parents. The dad jolted up, grasping his Axe and rushed over to his daughter.

"Aria, what is it?" The girl pointed at the man on the ground wordlessly. He was speaking softly, seemingly to himself.

"Why must you torment me? I've done what you've asked! Just go away!" He convulsed again, writhing in agony.

"I, I will master! Just give me a- aauugh!" The man slumped down, grimacing as he tasted the blood oozing onto his lip. Aria's father approached him cautiously.

"Are you alright son?" A laugh trickled out of the copy, quickly getting louder and more maniacal. He stood up, body twisting impossibly.

"Am I alright? Yes... Yes... I suppose I am now. If you and your wife would be so kind as to surrender and let me strangle you without a fight, I would be much more "alright" than I am now." The father stepped forward, swinging his axe at the man in front of him. Nothing needed to be said. They both knew it was to the death. The copy leapt forward, high over the axe swing. He knocked the weapon out of the father's hand and started clawing at him. The mother attempted to leap forward from her bed. Darkness rose from the ground engulfed her. Aria screamed. Her father shouted to her, struggling with the copy.

"Run!"

"... and I did, what choice did I have? I couldn't fight that... that thing! I was lucky to escape alive, let alone unharmed at all!" Aria slumped down as she finished her story, and was soon asleep. Mark pondered what it all meant.

"If she was attacked by my copy, he must still be in these woods... We stay put until daylight and press on. I need to sleep, but that will have to be done when we reach Caelin." Mark stayed awake the entire night, silently listening for anything, trying to decide what he would do if something actually did come as well as what he should do about Aria. Nothing did come, and slowly dawn broke over the land. He woke Aria up.

"What will you do now Aria?" Mark placed his hand on hers in an attempt to relax the still on edge girl. She didn't say anything for several moments, during which Mark questioned whether what he had said was somehow insulting. However, she soon spoke.

"My family is dead, Tactician. I have nowhere to go. I do not know anyone in Caelin, no one. I cannot do anything." Mark finally decided.

"Come with me, for the sake of company if nothing else. I am going to Caelin as well, to... visit a friend of mine. She would most likely invite you to stay with her, though I know not how she would react to me now." Aria agreed, though not without hesitation. Before they set off down the road, Mark again stopped Aria and looked at her.

"Are you sure that your parents died? If you aren't, then..." Aria shook her head.

"I saw them die tactician, I saw them murdered. There is nothing for me to go back to, unless it is the corpses of my family grinning at me, laughing at my cowardice." Mark nodded, squeezed her hand in an attempt to and they went off towards Caelin.

************************************************** *********************************By the afternoon of the next day, they had made it through the forest and into the plains of Sacae. The soft smell of the air and the coolness of the breeze floated over them, and for the first time since they had entered the forest the were relaxed. For Mark, this place brought back memories of the days when he and Lyndis had traveled them alone, short and few though they were. Those memories were for another time however; the urgency of his mission returned to him and he urged Aria along, stopping only when night fell, speaking very little. It was when night fell and they were both nearly asleep that they actually conversed.

"Mark?"

"Yes Aria?"

"Maybe... Maybe this was supposed to happen, you running into me in the forest."

"I was supposed to find you I guess. Don't know why though."

"Do you believe in destiny", Aria asked sleepily.

"Yeah, I suppose I do. My whole life has been a set of coincidences that worked for the greater good."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, take my encounter with Lyndis as an example. I had pretty much just given up. I fell asleep in the middle of the plains, and when I woke up, I saw her. You know the rest." Aria nodded, letting silence fall for awhile. She spoke again, almost completely asleep now.

"Mark, do you know what it's like to love someone and then be forced to leave them?" Mark paused, taking a deep breath as his eyes misted slightly. He sighed his words out.

"Yes, yes I do."

"It hurts. Hurts more then anything ever has."

"Yes, yes it does."

"Good night Mark."

"Sleep well." Aria was soon quietly breathing, and Mark knew she was asleep. His mind was tossing and turning, boiling in a heat of emotion. One word escaped his lips.

"Lyn..."

Alright, thanks for bearing with me on this one. Lots of experimenting, lots of character development attempted. I even tried the romance, which I believe turned out rather well, (at least compared to my worries). I'll leave the deciding on whether it was good or bad up to you. Tell me. I really what to know how my fevered machinations turned out.


	7. Chapter Five: At Castle Caelin

"Forgotten Months Chapter Five: At Castle Caelin"

It was two days later that Rath arrived. They were all near Caelin Castle's spires; patches of forest dotted the landscape, but for the most part it was the pale greens and browns of the Sacaen plains. Few words were exchanged, besides those uttered in greeting and introduction. By now, they knew that the need to reach Castle Caelin as quickly as possible was increasing with every second. None of them knew what was going to happen, but they all knew it was not going to be good...

Lyn look out over the parapet as she always did at the sunset of each day, looking over the fields facing Sacae's vast fields and plains. A slight breeze was blowing, sending her emerald hair gently into the air, The area was bathed in a dark shade of orange light, casting long shadows behind her. Movement to the South caught her attention, and she turned quickly to face it. Her face twisted into a mask of confusion when she realized what it was.

"Mark?" she shouted this down to the person below. He took off his hood, looking up at her. He smiled rather awkwardly, waving at her.

"Hello Lyn?" She laughed, more from surprise then anything, and it was soon replaced by a frown.

"Why did you leave", Lyn asked quietly, more to herself than to anyone else. Mark looked up, cocking his head at her.

"What?" The emerald haired girl snapped out of her thoughts, quickly replying.

"Nothing tactician. I'll let you in, just give me a moment." Mark nodded, putting his hood back on. Lyn walked down the stairs and headed towards the gate.

She paused, contemplating what had happened since they had last met, since the last time she had seen him. She remembered seeing him walking away from Caelin, sneaking off after the banquet celebrating him, the banquet celebrating his work! She had called out to him, begging him to come back. He looked back, then turned away and walked off, leaving her reeling in a turmoil of emotion. Sure, Rath, Serra, and Erk had all left, but her relationship with them wasn't nearly... She had saved him. He had left her, and it wasn't fair. She had spent days after it happened asking herself why she cared. He was just a drifter she'd found on the plains, nothing special at all! At least, that's what she kept telling herself. The feeling of sorrow still wouldn't leave her, no matter how hard she tried to forget it, to forget him. Eventually, she did, going on with her life as "princess of Caelin". Now he was back, and all the memories of what they had and what they could have had rushed back, flooding her mind. Sighing, Lyn opened the gate, letting Mark in, heart still racing as she continued to think about it.

"What should I do?" Lyn looked down, realizing she had spoken those words aloud.

"What?"

"Nothing Mark."

"Alright then." The mood in the banquet hall was awkward and heavy, the pale candlelight was the only thing brightening the darkness of the room, since the sun had by now set. The food stood in contrast to this. Lyn had prepared a small meal for Mark, (not wanting to wake up the servants), using her skills from when she was a nomad on the plains. It was not the best looking food, more focused on nutrients and taste, but it had a certain beauty to it. Of course, this could also just be because they were both starving, but regardless, it was a good meal. However, the lack of talking from Lyn had made Mark worried.

"Have I done something to upset you?" Lyn looked at Mark aghast.

"You really don't know at all?"

"No, I don't", he said, putting down his meal to look at her. Lyn stood up angrily, rushing away. Hurriedly, Mark got up, a confused look on his face.

"Lyn, wait! Come back here, I want to talk about it!" It was too late, she had already exited the room, pulling the heavy doors closed behind her. Mark looked around, making sure no one was looking, then sighed, also letting a slight chuckle to escape his lips. He removed his hood again, revealing several patches of black. He picked up a spoon, looking at his reflection. Flecks of gold could be seen in his dark brown iris'. The cut on his shoulder still pained him, but he no longer cared. That man and his wife had been dealt with, and he was healing extraordinarily fast. The daughter who had escaped? A minuscule concern. He stood up, walking towards the great double doors between him and the hallway Lyn had come down.

"Great... I needed her to be happy that brother, I mean I, was returning. Nothing could be worse then an unhappy woman. Especially one with a sword that size... Well, better go apologize. I need her here, alive and well for the final act. What could be better for my Brother's downfall then the destruction of what he had saved." He smiled, letting his grin ooze over his face. A soft breeze blew by him, and he turned.

"Jafar, how wonderful it is to see you." The figure in front of him stood still.

"No reply? Shouldn't have expected any more from someone who kills people while they sleep." Patting the cloaked man on the back, Mark's copy looked out the window above at the stars.

"Kill the soldiers, all of them. Hang them over the walls, poison them, stab them while they sleep, I don't care! Just get them out of the way. I need nothing to separate me and my brother's joyful reunion." Jafar nodded, vanishing into the gloominess of the room.

"Now, let's see about capturing ourselves a princess, hm?" The copy threw open the hallway's doors, careful not to slam them. He silently walked off into the hallway, heading for Lyn...

How's that for a cliffhanger? Well, you'll just have to wait until next week to see what happens. As always, review! I want feedback: without it, any story will never get better.


	8. Chapter Six: Princess in Peril

"Forgotten Months Chapter Six: Princess in Peril (Castle Caelin's Scouring)"

Before I resume this story, I'd like to apologize for the several week delay. I was busy with my College writing class final. If you would like to see what was taking up my time, go to my blog, (linked on my profile), and look for the story called "To Oregon", a zombie story. I'd encourage you to read it. It may not be the best story ever, but I enjoyed writing it, and, (I hope), you'll enjoy reading it. That being said, let's return to the story, shall we? Onward!

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Lyndis was now sure that "Mark" wasn't Mark. The fact that he had "forgotten" about him leaving was what really told her. She had used it as an excuse to leave the room. She was going for her sword, the Manni Katti. If this wasn't Mark, she reasoned that it was either a spy or an assassin.

"But how could they look like him?" She paused, sensing something behind her. She turned, sword spinning to the attacker's throat. The visitor's dark eyes bore into her as she held her sword up.

"Who are you", Lyn asked threateningly. The visitor smiled menacingly at her. His dark red hair hung over his eyes, coming out from under the edge of his grey cloak as he spoke.

"I'm the 'Angel of Death'." Lyn faltered for a minute, then retorted.

"What does the 'Angel of Death' have to do with my uncle's kingdom?" He vanished as instantaneously as he had appeared as Lyn confusedly looked around for a moment. Any other thoughts on the matter were silenced as the sound of footsteps came down the passage and Lyn ran towards them, Manni Katti ready to strike at the slightest provocation. Mark's form rounded the corner and an infernal heat came from the floor. Shadows shot out from "Mark" as Lyn swung her blade. The darkness dissipated as soon as the Manni Katti came in contact with them. "Mark" smiled, though his now golden eyes burned with hatred beneath his almost completely black hair.

"I should have taken this into consideration. The princess of Caelin, wielder of a holy sword. And a greater one then most sacred blades at that. Oh well, I suppose I'll just disarm you and move forward with the Master's great plan." With a flick of his wrist, he sent shadows flying out from every direction. Lyn flourished the Manni Katti and dashed towards the Copy, dodging her way through the shadows. With a shout, Lyn leapt into the air and lunged at him. She froze in midair, struggling against the dark arms that held her still. The Copy batted her blade away from his face, reaching his hand up to feel the now permanent smirk her blade had turned his mouth into. Angrily, he stopped beside her head and whispered in her ear.

"Struggle, struggle little fly! The spider's already here, and he's starving! Ha. Haha. Hahahahahahahahahaha!" "Mark" shook his hand side-to-side and sent Lyn flying between the passage walls. Lyn crumpled to the ground, her vision becoming blurry as she struggled to stay awake. The Manni Katti lay on the floor twenty or so feet away.

"Where are the guards? Surely they must've heard... This..." With a slight breeze, the assassin appeared in-front of the Copy, tossing a body to the ground at his feet.

"No!" Lyn recognized the face of the soldier, one of her best followers, and struggled to her feet, fighting against her body as it tried to hold her down. "Mark" looked down at Lyndis, lifting the other side of his face to complete his hideous grin.

"Look Jafar, the fly is still trying to fight without it's wings." Lyn lept onto the Copy, clawing, struggling as much as she could in a blind rage, trying to kill the monster who had directed this. Shadowy arms spurted out of his sides, grabbing and throwing her down again. She struggled to rise again, then fell unconscious. The Copy was now completely disheveled. His dark hair was missing patches. Scratch marks dragged a bloody path across his face, stretching the grin even wider. Jaffar looked at him in silence. "Mark" Glared at him.

"What are you looking at assassin? Your job is done here. Leave." Jaffar nodded and vanished. The Copy looked at himself in the Manni Katti's blade. He went to pick it up, but it burned his hand. Angrily he began tearing out his own hair, pulling furiously at his head. Soon there wasn't a sing hair left. Pulling his hood onto his head, he grabbed Lyndis and dragged her down the passage. She would die, but only when Mark was there to watch her bleed out at his "own" hands, so to speak. "Mark" laughed.

"Faster brother. Join me soon. Together, we..." His voice faded out as the doors leading into the banquet hall slammed open. Whirling, he saw the figure outlined against the banquet's candlelit length. The diabolical grin spread across his face again as he reached out his hand in a welcoming invitation.

"Brother, so good of you to join me."

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Well, I suppose that was short, but I wanted you to know that I'm still writing it, just give me time. Thanks for supporting me guys!


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